


A Strong Belief in the Future

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Briefest mention of sex, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Geno being such a softy, M/M, Marriage Proposal, SO MUCH FLUFF, brief cameos by others, briefest mention of rimming, set in ambiguous time frame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: His gaze drifts over the rest of the display to a few pieces of jewelry, some thick necklaces for men, a few bizarre flower pins he thinks of sending to his mother simply because it would make her laugh, but something does draw his gaze.Zhenya finds himself pushing through the aged door, a bell tinkling above, as he steps into the dim interior of the shop.





	A Strong Belief in the Future

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into this fandom but I'm so hooked it's ridiculous! Let me know what you think!

 

Zhenya arrives in the States with _nothing_ but hope and fear and the determination that this _cannot_ be the wrong decision, not after all that he’s gone through to get it.

He has the clothes on his back, the small bag he’d packed in secret and the memory of his parents tears, their kisses pressed to his brow, their rough hands on his cheeks, the feel of their arms around him as they held him close unsure of what the future would bring them.

But when they arrive at the Lemieux house there’s another boy with dark whiskey eyes and full red lips and Zhenya doesn’t understand a word that he’s saying, the strange sounds washing over him like the sound of his skates on the ice during morning practice, soothing, steady, and suddenly he knows he has _this_.

 

::

 

Three years after meeting Sidney Crosby, Zhenya is downtown, bumming around, wasting time between a doctors appointment and when he has to go meet Flower and Sid for lunch. He passes by an old pawn shop, grimy looking on the outside but the display catches his eye and he finds himself drawn over, peering through the glass.

An old Penguin pennant is propped proudly off to the side and he grins a little, thinking Sid would love it. He can picture how his face would light up, eyes bright, cheeks pinking and teeth peeking through from behind those full lips. It’s Zhenya’s job in life, he’d discovered early on, to pull those smiles from Sid as often as he can. It’s an addiction, a rush to get one of Sid’s precious smiles, and it lights Zhenya up from the inside out when he manages.

His gaze drifts over the rest of the display to a few pieces of jewelry, some thick necklaces for men, a few bizarre flower pins he thinks of sending to his mother simply because it would make her laugh, but something does draw his gaze.

His first thought is, it reminds him of his parents wedding bands. His chest goes tight at the thought, taking in the three lines of silver and gold that wind around each other in a simple, continuous pattern. It’s clearly not made for a woman’s finger, thick, large, glinting in the light that hits it over Zhenya’s shoulder from the mid morning sun. It belongs on a man’s ring finger, someone with thick fingers, rough from years of stick work and ruthless routine to stay in shape for the life they love. A symbol that someone loves them just as much.

Zhenya blinks away the image and finds himself pushing through the aged door, a bell tinkling above, as he steps into the dim interior.

He hesitates there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. There’s a radio playing somewhere but it’s quiet enough that he can’t identify what’s playing and any words there get lost before he can translate them.

An elderly woman peers at him over his glasses from behind the counter, gaze raking him over and he feels laid bare before her. He clears his throat, crosses the threshold further into the store.

“Is there something I can help you with today?” She asks politely, bright blue eyes behind her glasses still watching him like a hawk and he stumbles over the words for a moment before he manages to get out,

“Interested in ring.” He gestures towards the window, cheeks blazing and her gaze softens minutely.

“Which one?” She crosses, pulls the display box from the window and sets it back down on the counter for him to look at. His fingers feel clumsy when he reaches for the trifold ring, and it’s cool to the touch but there’s something perfect about it when he holds it up to see properly. Up close it’s even more beautiful and the tight feeling in his chest is back, followed by a wave of intense homesickness, the likes of which he hasn’t felt in awhile.

“Good choice.” The woman says quietly. She puts the display box back in the window, minus the ring in her hand, and then stoops down to pull out a soft, black velvet box. “A present I’m assuming?”

Zhenya stares at the ring for a moment longer. He wishes he could say he didn’t know why he was buying this ring, or that it was an extravagant gift for a good friend. But he knows himself better than that.

This is an impulse, but it feels so _right_.

It feels like a promise for the future.

She places it carefully in the ring box and at the last moment Zhenya remembers the pennant in the window, adding that to the purchase. The price isn’t bank breaking, though it feels like it should be for something so precious.

He leaves the store five minutes after he entered it feeling...different.

His chest feels lighter, with something that could be called joy, and his pocket feels heavy with that weight of the box.

He meets up with Sidney and Flower for lunch, and sure enough the pennant draws one of Sid’s precious smiles that he carefully memorizes and tucks away for later, for whenever he needs to feel the warmth that accompanies it.

The ring stays in his pocket until he gets home though, and then he carefully tucks it into his nightstand drawer, ignoring Jeffreys curious nosing, before climbing into bed. He sleeps soundly that night, dreaming of the ring sitting on the finger of its rightful owner.

 

::  


There are days where he comes home after a tough practice feeling raw, worn to the bone. Or days when they lose a game they should have won and Zhenya _knows_ it’s his fault, he should have been faster or smarter or anticipated someone else’s movements _better_. Or even days where he comes from the chaos and camaraderie of the team to an echoing house barely filled by himself, Jeffrey and Dixie and the quiet presses in on him, suffocating him. When he misses his home and his parents like an open, ragged wound, and the warmth and noise and love he associates with them.

Those days, those nights, he pulls out the little velvet box, careful to keep the dust from collecting on it, and slides the ring onto his own ring finger. It’s a little loose on his own long, thin fingers but he imagines that it would be a perfect fit on thicker knuckles, against pale skin, showing the world that above all else, Zhenya loves them.

It becomes a ritual almost, after these days where he knows sleep is far off, he twists the little ring around his finger, memorizing the shape, the feel of it and imaging a future where he takes it off his own finger, sliding it down onto it’s rightful owners.

The first night he’d done this, he’d fallen asleep only to wake in the early hours of the morning, panicking when he couldn’t find the ring, too loose and having fallen off during the night, lost among his bed sheets.

He finds it eventually tucked up under his pillow, but not before he nearly gives himself a heart attack tossing blankets and sheets and a disgruntled cat out of the way.

After that he’s careful to place it back in the side drawer of his night stand, safe.

 

::  


Sid kisses him one tuesday afternoon.

They’ve been lounging around Zhenya’s, switching between Sid’s shows and video games, pausing when their stomachs start grumbling to wander out, vaguely bleary eyed, into the kitchen in search of lunch. It’s the beginning of the season so take out is out but Zhenya has a fridge stocked full of food and despites Sid’s somewhat effective attempts at cooking, Zhenya is a _master_ in the kitchen. He’s got some left over stew in the fridge from sunday so he takes it out, heating it up and then grabs the ingredients to assemble some truly masterful triple decker sandwiches- if he does say so himself. With the way Sid practically drools over them as they eat, it’s a pretty good ego boost at least.

They eat at the little island in his kitchen. He leans against the counter while Sid perches on the stool and Jeffrey stares expectantly up at them for scraps before Zhenya shoos him away. _He_ certainly didn’t teach him how to beg which means Sid’s probably been sneaking the dog bits of meat when Zhenya’s not looking.

He shoots Sid a disapproving stare but the shorter man just grins, pasting on his best innocent expression and really, Zhenya can’t help but give in.

“He going get fat.” He mumbles, clearing his dishes to the sink. Sidney laughs, following after him and quickly washes them while Zhenya dries.

“He’s fine, he gets plenty of exercise running after you in the morning.”

“Be lazy too.” Zhenya continues, pretending he didn’t hear him. “Just like Captain. Have to carry him _and_ hockey soon.”

Sid lets out a laugh, half outrage, and splashes him with the water left over on his hands, which has Zhenya reaching for his glass of water on the counter, flicking droplets of water back as it devolves into an all out war.

The excitement quickly attracts Jeffrey again who comes surging into the kitchen, right under their feet and Zhenya trips, his glass going flying, soaking them both as he literally falls right into Sidney. They end up on the floor, a wet, tangled mess. Jeffrey, he notes, beats a strategic retreat knowing he’s in trouble but that still leaves Zhenya sprawled on top of Sidney and he scrambles back before he accidentally _crushes_ their Captain three weeks into the season.

“Sid alright?” He stares down at Sidney, worried that maybe he hit his head _again_ when he just stares up at Zhenya for what seems like ages. Then he grins- a beautiful smile that stretches his cheeks and lips, a hint of teeth, his eyes scrunching up and lets out his ridiculous honking laugh.

It’s infectious. He slumps sideways, pressed against Sids side as laughter shakes their bodies, warming him from inside out, until they’re a panting mess on the floor in Zhenya’s kitchen, slumped against each other.

He catches Sidney’s eye and sees something there, something he recognizes, before Sid is leaning over, pressing his plush lips against Zhenya’s. It’s a brief, dry kiss that leaves him burning for more, but it feels like _everything_.

His eyes flutter open- he doesn’t know when they slid shut- to find Sidney watching him carefully.

“Sidney,” he breathes, joy stealing through him until he feels like he may burst from it. And then he leans back in to kiss him, again and again and again.

Later when they’re back on the couch, curled together this time, a documentary on Wombats on tv in the background, Russian subtitles on for him, he thinks of the ring tucked away upstairs. He catches Sidney’s hand in his own, taking in the broad, rough fingers. He rubs at his ring finger gently, imagining what it would look like. Sidney rouses himself from where he’s been drowsing under Zhenya’s weight for the past half hour to make a questioning noise.

“Is nothing,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to his mess of curls, just because he can.

 

::

 

Sidney’s stuff slowly finds its way into his house.

The man’s been splitting his time between living at the Lemieux house, the terrible apartment downtown, and the house that he’s been trying to build for _years_ and Zhenya doesn’t think will ever be finished, solely because Sid doesn’t seem to want it to be. But now he finds Sidney’s toothbrush next to his own in the bathroom in the morning, and his disgusting green vegetable shakes in the fridge next to Zhenya’s gatorade. His truck is parked next to Zhenya’s car in the drive, his dirty clothes mixing together in the laundry basket- he also picks up Zhenya’s mess when he tosses his dirty clothes wherever and it drives him _crazy_ at first before he just _lets_ it happen and suddenly he’s not tripping over random shit in the morning- and suddenly he can’t remember what it was like to come home to an empty, echoing house.

He gets to wake up next to Sidney every morning and fall asleep curled around him every night. They get to fight over what to watch on tv, if Swartzenager could ever beat Stallone in an action film (he could _not_ despite what Sid may claim), over what brands of peanut butter are best (Sidney does win here solely because it’s part of his pregame ritual and even Zhenya wouldn’t mess with _that_ ).

He ends up having to tuck the little ring box away in the back of his closet after the first time they have sex, when Sidney goes rummaging for the lube and condoms because Zhenya’s a puddle on the bed having just been rimmed to within an inch of his _life_ and it's not until after that Zhenya realizes how easily Sidney could have found it in the back of the drawer if they hadn’t both been so desperate to come.

He waits until Sid has gone out to meet up with the coaches before digging the little velvet box out. It’s got a little bit of dust stuck to it now that he scrubs at, before pulling the ring out, turning it over and over in his hands.

The familiar weight is reassuring, steadying and he thinks about cooking up the salmon in the freezer, uncorking some wine and waiting for Sidney to come back to ask him a question that’s been on the tip of his tongue for years.

He ends up tucking it carefully away in a box of memories from home, old photos and letters and clothes. Instead he pulls out a copy of his mothers recipes with her careful, neat handwriting and decides to treat Sidney in the best way he knows how.

 

::

 

When Sidney ends up benched with a concussion _again_ he thinks about the ring, the stability it promises, how no one would be able to keep him from Sidney if anything like this happened again, if it was worse and the doctors wouldn’t let Zhenya in to see him. And when his knee happens, he thinks about how they’re already each others emergency contacts but this would mean _that much more_.

But pulling the ring out because one or both of them is hurt doesn’t seem _right_.

 

::

 

“Hey, Geno,” Zhenya’s in the middle of balancing two boxes of groceries, because Sid insists they go out and buy their own, instead of using Zhenya’s delivery guy all the time. It’s disgustingly domestic making a shopping list, arguing over cereal and Zhenya _loves it_. He grunts to show he’s listening but there’s a hungry cat winding through his legs and he’s almost positive Dixie is trying to kill him to eat his body. “Put those down for a sec?”

Zhenya glances up at the strange tone to Sid’s voice, catches the look on his face and has the boxes on the table and is crossing to Sidney immediately.

“What? What happen?” He cups Sid’s face gently, eyes raking over him like he can spot any hidden injury. He has the team doctors on speed dial because Sid is _accident prone_ and determined to take years off of Zhenya’s life, and is a split second away from using it.

“Nothing, I’m fine G, I promise.” There’s a warmth to his gaze that Zhenya is just catching, now that the worry and momentary _terror_ is fading quickly. But he still doesn’t recognize the look on SIdneys face. He grips Zhenya’s hands where they’re still cradling Sidney’s face and gently pulls them away. He lets his hands drop and then Sid is reaching behind him on the counter, grasping something small and square before he sinks down on to one knee and Zhenya stops breathing.

“I’ve had this for a year,” Sidney starts, voice quiet but firm, eyes bright with excitement and nerves, cheeks pink and Zhenya doesn’t think it’s possible for him to love him anymore than he already does. “And I’ve been waiting and waiting for the right moment but every moment with you is perfect,”

Zhenya snorts and Sidney ducks his head, shoulders shaking.

“Yeah okay,” he laughs, “That was cheesy, but true. And I want to keep having these moments for as long as you’ll have me.”

Zhenya stares down at the ring nestled in the tiny box. It’s beautiful- a dark metal in a simple, thick band. Understated and perfect.

“Marry me Zhenya?” It still sounds odd coming from Sidney’s mouth, he trips over the pronunciation a bit but he’s clearly been practicing. For him. For this.

“G?” He prompts when Zhenya’s silence drags on a little too long. He’s starting to look unsure and Zhenya can’t have that so he hauls him to his feet and then down the hall to the stairs. “Geno?”

Sidney lets him lead him to the bedroom, then sits when Zhenya gives him a light shove onto their bed. Their bed, their home, he’s grinning like a mad man as he digs out the box at the back of the closet, hauling the entire thing out with him. Sidney looks even more confused when Zhenya dumps it on the floor next to his feet and starts digging through it. It’s been awhile since he’s taken it out, but its still where he left it, tucked safely in one of his old KHL Jerseys. Understanding and awe spreads across Sidney’s face as Zhenya settles next to him on bed, opening the little velvet box. It feels like his heart is going to burst from his chest and all he can manage, after all these years of planning, of imagining this moment is:

“Marry me too Sid?”

Sidney laughs, honking and happy, and it’s easy after that to exchange the rings and he was right, all those years ago, the ring slides onto Sidney’s finger like it was made for him.

Like it was fate.

 

Bonus:

 

“So you proposed at the same time?” Ollie arches an eyebrow at them as the team gathers around to take in the rings.

“Yeah,” Sid rubs his free hand against the back of his neck, but the happy grin hasn’t left his face since yesterday afternoon when Zhenya had pulled out the matching box.

“Only you guys could make proposing into a competition.” Dan mutters but he looks pleased for them.

“And Sidney managed to win this time,” Flower chirps them goodnaturedly.

“Sidney best,” Zhenya slings an arm around his fiance. He loves the word. Almost as much as husband. The others may be right, he is a sentinemtal old man. “After me.”

“Remember I give Penguins Pennant?” Sidney’s brow furrows for a moment but considering it’s now pinned to their corkboard in the kitchen, it doesn’t take Sidney long to place the day Zhenya gave it to him. “I get ring too.”

“No,” Sidney’s jaw drops and Zhenya nods, smug. “Geno, that was _years ago_.”

Zhenya just shrugs as the team tactfully disperses to get ready for practice, leaving them to it.

“Just knew.” It doesn’t explain the feeling he’d had, the certainty and the image of the future that had come with it but he thinks maybe Sid gets it anyways with the way his gaze softens and he presses against Zhenya, kisses him softly and sweetly before bumping their heads, teasing and pulling back.

“I love you.” He breathes against his cheek as he moves away to get changed.

Zhenya busies himself with his own gear, but not a thing can wipe the disgustingly wide grin from his face, even the other guys chirping at them.

Under his gloves during the game the ring is warm against his skin, a light weight that centers him, steadies him, and it feels like a promise for the future.


End file.
